Page 10 of Love on the Run

On my knees, I pull myself free of the silk lounge pants. My dick slaps against my abdomen as the tip glistens. Smearing come over the head, I watch her lying down before me, so open, ready.

“Come here,” I ground out, motioning with the two wet digits. As soon as she scrambles to her knees. I push them into her mouth. “Look at you, Flower. You love being a good little cumslut for me, don’t you?” She nods. Her eyes are pools of hurt and passion. We’re locked in this — my need to dominate her, her need to submit to me.

“Say you’re mine.” I grip her neck.

“Are you only mine?” She acts like it hurts her ask.

“You fucking know it.” That she’d dare demand my face, turns something in me.

“Get on your fucking knees.” Spinning her around, I press between her should blades until she is flush with the mattress. I hitch her ass up.

“Ahh—” I drive into her soft heat, and it is bliss. So tight. So right. So us.

Still, she’s too tight. I’m only halfway in. I look down, seeing those fat ass lips stretch around me, feeling the muscles clench and quiver. I rub her juicy, still sensitive clit and she opens for me more.

“Damn, Hana.” The endearment slips from my lips so naturally. Sometimes she’s quiet when I fuck her. Tonight, I want her screams.

I smack her ass. She cries out, yet her muscles clench so hard my dick feels like it’s about to break in half.

She loves when I spank her ass. She loves when I spank her pussy. Tonight she’ll have both. My dragons want to bite her. I’m going to let them.

Gripping her hips, I give her no quarter, my thrusts hard, my hand on her ass harder as I plunder her sweetness. Ruthlessly, mercilessly, I fuck her into the bed.

“Akchiro,” she moans my name over and over, begging. Her fingers grip and release, grip and release on the covers, and she takes me. Her pussy feels unbelievable. So lush, and sweet, soft with a death grip from hell. This is my pussy. She belongs to me. Flower belongs to me. I hit her spot, bringing her close, closer than ever before when an unamenable urgency strikes me.

She gasps, stunned, when I pull out.

I move to the head of the bed.

“Earn it.” I grit through my teeth, holding the base of my dick waving her over. This position makes her feel the most exposed. Vulnerable. I want to see her eyes when she comes and dare her to deny that she is mine.

Trembling from her thwarted orgasm, she braces on my chest, trying to position herself. Her self-consciousness makes her cheeks flush to an almost umber hue as she rubs my dick between her labia. Her juices are running over her fingers and onto my shaft.

After what seems like eons, she easing down, taking the head of my dick inside of her.

“You’re such a good fucking girl. Now, ride this dick. I want to see what you won’t say.”

Inch by inch, I watch my dick stretch her, watch as she takes me, biting her lip, as she feels the pleasure and the pain of this position. Our size difference is obvious and almost obscene. I see every part of her body. The deep pools of anguish in her eyes telling me she hates herself for loving me and what I’m making her do, but she can’t stop herself from doing it. Even as she wipes her tears away.

Making slow circles, her hips wind on my dick, feeling like the best head and pussy combined. Soon she’s riding me like awave. So good. So good. She’s on this dick like she owns it. She does. This woman owns me heart and soul.

“That’s it. Ride this dick, Hanna-chan. Give me my pussy.” Groaning, I rise to meet her, pulling her into an all-consuming kiss. She rides me. I pound up into her until she breaks apart on top of me.

My dick is hard as fuck and pounds a beat that rivals a ceremonial drum, but I know where I want my nut. I ease out of her wetness again.

“Clean me up.” She’s panting her eyes blown to hell, but she knows better than to disobey me. She licks up one side and down the other before she starts deep throating me. Fucking deep into her mouth, I shout her name when I come down her throat.

“I’m getting water. Do you want one?” She asks later after I’ve taken her for the third time. I nod. We have lain in silence, neither of us talking. Spent from the anger, anguish and the pleasure from the night.

She pulls away, not really looking at me. Gingerly, she moves from the bed, obviously sore, her body peppered with purpling bruises from the spankings and love bites I gave her. There is no part of me that regrets the claim I’ve made. In fact, the possessive side of me revels in it.

What she misunderstood about me not thinking of her as a weakness is once I accepted what we have, what she is to me, she is my everything; I was no longer weak. Her love made me strong. But to let anyone know the power she has over me, even her, would lead to my downfall and I would deserve it. You hoard power, you don’t share it.

She comes back with two small bottles, hand me one, snuggling in beside me. In no time, they are finished.

“We should shower,” I tell her.

Instead of acting on it I pull her closer, resting my head on top of her head.

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